


My Dearest Boy

by mira_las_estrellas



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Writes Too Much, Canonical Character Death, Implied Kinky Crap, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Minor Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Homophobia, TW: Implied/Referenced Depression and Minor Suicidal Thoughts, letterfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mira_las_estrellas/pseuds/mira_las_estrellas
Summary: Alexander Hamilton has written a lot, shared too much, hidden other things. A series of letters written to Laurens, before and after 1982.





	My Dearest Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I was thinking "Hey, what if Hamilton had written letters to Laurens that were too personal to send?" and then my friend suggested "Wait, before of after his death?". We suffered, you suffer too.

My dearest Laurens,

It is with my greatest regret that I inform you of my impeding marriage. Regret, not for the woman who is to be my wife (for she is lovely, and will be a wonderful bride, and a true delight to have around) but for the fact that I will no longer be able to properly convey you the depth of my love and affections as we meet. I trust that your heart is too kind to actually receive this letter, hence, for the time being, it is to remain in my drawers. Nonetheless, I hope that in the event of my future death, and in hope that it will come to happen long before yours, you may come in possession of these letters. I trust that miss Schuyler - future ms. Hamilton - will be careful not to let the secret come out in the event she may find them before you.  
  
My dearest Laurens, as I prepare for the wedding, my heart is filled with joy for the celebration of the newfound union with this lovely soul, but the ever underlying sadness lingers in its depths, locked for as long as the sun is out. At night, however, it rebels, and escapes from its dark corners to seek its revenge in plaguing my soul. I think of you, and the nights we shared, side by side in military tents. I remember the rain pouring from the heavens to offend us, the frigid air infecting our insides. Amidst the ice and violence, you, my dearest, were like a fragment of the Sun, your hands almost as warm as your smile, although never as warm as your passion. Whatever regret I feel does not lie in my impeding marriage, but in the future lack of your affection, and the end of the nights we have shared, that my engagement must mark.

I am, nevertheless, glad that if I find myself in the position to build a family as considered proper, and use this marriage as a chance to obtain future social advantages, along with the love it will certainly bring, it can be with miss Schuyler that this union happens. For the time being, the war against England still rages on, and many more nights I will be required to spend away from home and at your side. I revel at the thought, and, when you finally receive these writings, I hope you remember to have done the same.

Yours truly,  
Alexander Hamilton

* * *

My dearest Laurens,

I wish I could tell you in person how you have stolen my breath during these last days. It has been absolutely impertinent on your part, and even more impudent is the fact that you seem to be unaware of the effect your behavior and beauty has had on me. For all my reputation as a great writer, I still struggle to find the words that will render justice to your eyes and your step as you march into battle, or rush to complete the General's errands around our campsite. I would demand you atone for these crimes, but it would be unfair of me, as, by the time you come to read these lines, you will no longer remember them.

I trust our friends understand how much I miss your warmth at night, and would be almost offended that you have not shown the same nostalgy; yet I once again find myself unable to hold your actions against you, for I know it's your passion for the war and your deep trust in my own honesty that does not allow you to read my intentions. Some might consider it a lack in intellect, but I have known you for too long to believe such a ridiculous mockery. Your mind might not be as bright as your passion is, but it is a splendid place in itself, as I can gladly recount from our conversations and debates.

I find myself digressing, and Washington awaits my service; I will meet you again this night, in hopes that you offer any form of atonement for your inexcusable behavior, or that you simply offer pleasant company, as you always do.

Yours truly,  
Alexander Hamilton 

* * *

My dearest boy,

Our work together has been a blessing I could have never asked for. The fires of your soul burn so bright they are almost blinding, and my heart is only human; it is weakened every time you speak, whether to me or to yourself. It is both painful and joyful, and I would thank you personally, but I am worried of disturbing your extraordinary concentration in this noble work you love so. I think we can both agree that this should be our utmost priority; yet we can both agree in the same way that love, is the fuel and nutrition that allows us to keep on fighting for our noble cause.

I would invite you, my dear boy, to consummate this love, but I will not, for the reasons I have already mentioned, and because of my wife's wishes that I dedicate myself to her exclusively. It is not an unreasonable wish, and I regret not respecting it when it comes to the relationship I have with yourself; however, you know me better than anyone, my dearest, and you know I can love you both with all my heart and soul. I long for the day I will be able to consider both of you mine without reservations.

Yours truly,  
Alexander Hamilton

* * *

My dearest,

You have already received - or by the point in time when you come to read these letters, will have long received - my letter regarding our actions and the issue of M. Gen. Lee. Do not worry, for I do intend to repeat myself; these letters, are, after all simply confessions I do not find the courage to directly give to you.

I will keep my words brief, although I am conscious of the fact that you deserve a longer apology. I have endangered your life for cause of an argument that, although of fundamental importance, was mine to fight in the first place. I do not regret the duel, or C. Lee's rightful destiny; yet I apologize for not taking responsibility in my own hands, and facing any possible accusations of insubordination with the pride that, I find, I have never lacked in. It was a selfish act, and even though I am infinitely glad that you are safe and sound, and recognize your decision and courage, I still find myself at unease over the danger you were put in, hence the writing of this letter. As I promised at the beginning of this letter, I will conclude and keep the length of this message short, and easy to read, while still hoping that the sincerity of my feelings is evident in its reading. 

Yours, 

A. Hamilton

* * *

My dearest John,

I trust your battles in South Carolina are bringing you victory; I myself am to return to the service of Gen. W. and serve in Yorktown. With Mons. de Lafayette's help, we should gain victory over our tyrants, and finally free our nation. It is my sincere hope that, in the aftermath of this war, you will find an interest in taking residence in New York, by my side, and that of my wife; this city offers great opportunities for those hungry of life and justice such as yourself, and I would most definitely enjoy having your company available for the lonely days where the burdens of work and marital life grow to be too much. However things may go, I trust you already know that I deeply love you, my dearest boy, and that in the incoming months, as I lie in my tent, I will most certainly be thinking (along with thoughts of my wife and soon to be born son) of you, my dearest, and all our memories in the field. I will be longing for your embrace, your warmth, your comfort; I will, be thinking of your eyes, and your mouth, and your most fascinating nose, too.

In the meanwhile, I will attend to my own loneliness, and in the daylight, make use of every strength I have been given to fight for our Land.

Yours truly,  
A. Ham

* * *

My dear Laurens,

Eliza has given birth to a beautiful little boy. I am counting the days until you, too, can meet him. I have fantasized, rather innocently I fear to admit, about us raising this child together, at times with my wife, at times just the two of us. I have discovered a new kind of love for my son, the likes of which I have never experienced before. It warms my heart, and it hurts at the same time. If this is what my mother also felt, then I can say that, given the same circumstances, I would be thankful to the Lord were I given the chance to die instead of my son. I don't wish to know what life without a child would feel like, and now know, after countless nights of constant fearing for my son's life, fearing that he might stop breathing without even once speaking to his mother and I, that I would gladly give my own life in exchange for his. If my death might prevent my son's, then I would die a thousand times over to protect his smile. In all my years, my dear, I have never seen a thing that I longed to protect so strongly as my son's innocent smile and his joy when he sees his father, or his mother. It is truly a thing of wonder. 

I hope you forgive my digression from the common topic of these letters, but I also trust you have come to understand and accept my joy, and will be more than tolerant in reading,

A. Ham

* * *

~~My dear Laurens,~~

~~I received a letter from South Carolina. I can't~~

* * *

John,

I miss you terribly. It aches, in the deepest corners of my heart. I know I have not been faithful to our promises, I know I have disappointed you yet and yet again, and I regret it so profoundly. If only you would come back, I would tell you everything I have never told you, I would confess my love and apologize for my selfish actions. You were the sun in my life, you made things so much warmer. I know I have never deserved a miracle, but I can't hope for anything else.

A.

* * *

My dear John,

I dreamt of you this night. There was blood as far as my knowledge reached, and even though it was too dark to possibly see it, I knew of its presence. I was so afraid John, so afraid that you had been taken from me. When I woke up, and I realized you had been, my heart tore in half. Even when losing my own mother, I have not experienced such pain. I can only be glad that Eliza was not awoken, nor did she suspect anything.

My dearest boy, I don't miss you. I hurt, I regret everything so deeply. Right now, I am wondering whether I can keep on living my life like this, knowing every day, that you will never again smile at me, nor ever again touch me. If only I could hear a word of yours, I would be at rest, I would smile.

I cannot continue like this. I have no idea what I can do to alleviate the pain. Please, my love, help me.

Yours,  
Alexander Hamilton

* * *

My dearest,

Every day without you is an endless torture, but I have to confess my lack of faithfulness. My children make me smile more with each passing day; my wife has understood my grief, and even though she is not happy about my feelings for you, she will not complain, not aloud at the very least. I have told you, in one of my previous letters, that you were the Sun in my life, warm and bright, and I am a man of my word: I meant everything I wrote. There are, however, stars in the sky, and a Moon, too. Eliza, with her soothing presence and soft light, is the Moon; my sons, our friends, the General, the stars that force my mind to think about the vastness of the future. I find comfort in their smallest gestures, yet whenever my daughters leave with their mother to take a walk, whenever my sons are not home, so that my attention may be undividedly dedicated to their education, I feel the same ache that has been plaguing my heart since the grim letter reached our abode. It is weaker now, my dearest, and for that I am sorry. I would still do anything to bring you back to me, even if that might mean losing your friendship. Just knowing that you are alive and well, that your presence, enthusiasm and smile continue to grace this World, would put my soul at ease. I hope you are reading these letters, and I hope you went as you wished. I hope you have forgiven me.

But I can only hope, my love.

Yours,  
A. Ham

* * *

My dearest Laurens,

I have begun to live my life with a semblance of normalcy. My law activities are proceeding well, the clients seem to be satisfied with my services. Sir Aaron Burr himself has established his studio next door; we contend our cases, and sometimes collaborate. He is, as always, exceedingly fastidious and arrogant, a chameleon who will take the side of any client to come his way, whether he is innocent or not. Our competition is beyond the point of friendly rivalry, yet I do admire the good man, if only begrudginly, because of his abilities in court. Of course, he must never know of this.

Even so, I am not writing this letter to tell you about sir Aaron Burr and his court abilities, however worthy of my attention they might be. I have found myself almost wondering whether I should live my life to the fullest. The call of death has been quiet for so long, and every smile from my wife and my children gives me new strength and purpose. I am sure you would be happy to hear this, my dearest boy. You always thought my attitude towards life and our war too pessimistic, nihilistic you would define it. Absolutely arrogant and utterly idiotic. While I insist in my stubborn idiocy, I do find myself agreeing, at times, that the days that the Lord has given to me might just be worth trying to live as long as possible.

Regardless of how many months might pass, my heart still breaks at the thought that I will never hold you in my arms again; however, I will work so that I can make you, and everyone who ever believed in this orphan, penniless child of a whore, proud. Our great nation has still so much to be improved upon, and you were never one to forgive laziness and wallowing in one's own misery. Following that note, I think it apt to conclude this letter, for there is still work to do.

Yours truly, now and forever,  
Alexander Hamilton

* * *

My dearest boy,

I have written to you in this interval of silence; to be more precise, I have attempted to write to you. I thought that you would not like to waste your time, or mine, in empty words, when it could be used for much more valuable things instead.

The Constitution is not in any condition to support a proper nation anytime soon; the War might be over, but I have found our battles are far but. You would be absolutely outraged at the incredible ineptitude of those who would govern our nation. I can only be thankful that G. Washington is holding strong, and plans to estabilish a proper government, with a proper Constitution.

My children grow every day. Phillip bears quite the resemblance to Eliza, but he also reminds me of you. I don't know whether it is his mannerisms, his enthusiasm for everything in his life, for the world and himself, his friends and family, or his features, that do strike me as remindful of your lovely face. Of course, my son's features are more pleasing to the eyes than those of my good lord, but I do hope, in earnest faith, that Thou would accept Thy rightful place in this particular aspect. We cannot all win in everything, dear Laurens.

But I digress; or better yet, I yapper meaninglessly, with no aim. I think I have updated you sufficiently. If not so, then I bring you my most humble apologies.

Another thing I have found I miss after your departure are our particular... Games. I could never possibly ask Eliza to supply to your role; not only because of her rightful place as a woman, but because I do fear that my caprices would not be to her liking, nor my tastes to her approval. Were she to inquire where exactly I developed such an interest, I would find myself in quite the uncomfortable situation. I do cherish our memories (whether so idyllic and playful, in our rest days, in our tent; I remember the rain stopping, and remember the humidity still hanging in the air, and your positively wicked grin, like a villain that wanted to steal the value of my maiden heart; or memories of battle, memories of rest, your hair, let free, finally washed with some semblance of care, with that filthy water that probably held in itself more diseases than all of the camp combined, on my lap, playing with my senses, your eyes closed. You were so vulnerable, my dear. So absolutely breath taking. It was an insolence), and will hold them close to my self.

You have my word, my good sir, that I will behave exactly as you would have commanded of me, for you not to find a single point of reprimand even in your absence.

Yours forever,  
Your humble servant, Alexander Hamilton

* * *

John, my dearest,

It has been almost seven years since you were taken from us. Please do trust that I have never once forgotten about you, not in the frenetic efforts to fortify our great nation, nor in the quiet solace I have found in my family. In an ironic twist of destiny, or, perhaps, a conscious decision of Fate, it is in my family that I now also find my greatest punishment, and a constant reminder of you.

My son, my dearest Laurens, it is my son who, with his simple presence, will not allow me to forget you, nor what we have done in the past. Oh, he is blissfully unaware, as is my wife, neither of them see or know of the way my own child stabs nails in my heart with his visage, his smile. Rather than his mother's or mine, he has inherited your traits, my love. He is the son I was given from my wife, yet I cannot help but wonder if God himself has chosen these specific resemblances as a constant, neverending punishment for our past sins. I cannot, in good conscience, feel guilty of our activities, nor of our love. I do not regret anything, yet I do find this punishment to be cruel and admittedly, effective in never once allowing me to forget you.

Phillip is growing well, and will certain become a healthy, brilliant young man. I have the utmost confidence in his capabilities, and I do believe he will one day reach levels much higher than those of his father, and become one of the greatest men this world will ever lay eyes upon. When that day arrives, I will willingly retire, and you are invited, even in your current residence, to mark the date and time of this statement, and hold me to my word and obligations when we meet again.

The love I feel for my children grows every day, yet my attention is largely devoted to my work, and our progress. G. Washington is about to take control, once again, and establish his leadership and guidance over our nation, and I will be glad, if he so wishes, to serve him in doing so. I have the inexplicable feeling that my actions will influence our land, although not as I might imagine them to; however, as you know, I was never one to be particularly fond of superstitions, and will face the problems I might encounter as I do so along the way.

In these past years, I have been distracted by the immense amount of work that I found myself obliged, and pleased, to do, in law, politics, and as a husband and father. Nevertheless, my dearest, I beg you not to mistake my absence for forgetfulness; your absence is still sorely felt, and the end of the grieving process does not signify the end of my love for you. After all, as I said so long ago, you shouldn't have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections, my boy; you have, albeit unlawfully, earned a stable place in my heart. 

Yours, sincerely,  
Alexander Hamilton

* * *

My dear Laurens,

It has been interminable years since I last added to these letters. Truth be told, I confess I am surprised that I was still able to not only find them, but find them in this immaculate state. I believe my wife might have gotten to discover them in an incident dued to my own decisions and foolishness, and has yet again demonstrated that I have not been ever worthy of her, if she truly has seen my confessions to yourself and let them be even in her grief.

I have made many choices in my life, my love, many of them indeign of a man that has received so much by those surrounding him; yet I am, in all my lacking of virtue, infinitely grateful for everything I have experienced in my lifespan, which, in itself, extended beyond what I had ever expected as a young revolutionary dreamer.

I am not old, my John, yet I find I have nothing left to seek from life. You have been taken from me, as has my reputation, my career, and most of all, my son. I remember, a long time ago, I said to you I would rather die a thousand times over rather than suffer the death of my son; I can now confirm that I was not lying. I still would do so, gladly, with no regret.

I have seen so many things in my lifetime, my dearest boy. I have known poverty, death, war and famine; I have known slavery and injustices that would leave the wisest of men wondering where might the Good be in this world; yet I have also felt Love of the purest kind, for my family, my friends, for my wife, and for you. I have known the happiness that accompanies the smile of a child, the pride of fighting for change and victory, the mercy of our Lord in Heaven, and determination of the strongest kind.

I do not think I will survive past this morning, my love. I have taken many decisions, and in all these years, the reckless passion you would so often criticize and the fearlessness in stating my opinion that Aaron Burr, the man I am to finally face today, has hated since the very beginning, have not faded. I find myself unable to feel regret for retaining these characteristics; then again, many of the people who love me have appreciated them along the years, and have, in all probability, influenced me in also appreciating them more than I already was.

Time is running short, and I will soon have to depart my house. If everything goes as I hope and fear it might, then I will see you again soon, my dearest. Before I leave this world, I would thank you for all that you have done and been for me, and if your humble servant might beg one last favor from you, I would ask you to accompany me in my last moments on this Earth. However the events of this morning will come to unfold, I trust, my dearest, that you know that I always have, and always will, love you deeply.

I have the honor to be yr. obdnt. srvt.  
A. Ham

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you enjoyed, or didn't, please take a moment to leave a comment! It means a lot to authors - and if anyone wants to talk Hamilton or writing, feel free to pester me on Tumblr (@thedeadliestlittleone)!


End file.
